


All for You

by vudonn



Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, i mean a little
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 08:56:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14101878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vudonn/pseuds/vudonn
Summary: It was worth it. You told yourself that everyday. It was worth it because he’s happy. Worth it because he grins so much and so often, and when he smiled at you like that, so hopeful and so fucking beautiful, you know you would give him it all if it made him happy.In which, P.T. notices Phil's feelings towards him, which is both troubling and–wait nope, just troubling.





	All for You

**Author's Note:**

> in case its confusing, the 'you' is referring to barnum, so the entire story is from his pov. 
> 
> and yeah, i mean, i suppose it could be a xreader story if u were a dude who runs a circus named pt barnum who was married to charity?
> 
>  
> 
> i was gonna write some cute short 2k story to start off my writing career in the tgs fandom but,,, it turned into this monstrosity.

You think you noticed it before he did.

There was always that tingling in the back of your mind, a feeling that something wasn’t right here, but that’s where it had always stayed, pushed to, the back of your mind.

It had started when he first joined the circus–perhaps even before that, but hell if you knew–and always watched you perform from afar. You’d take a quick look back at him in the middle of a lyric or halfway through a dance step to see his wide eyes fixated on you. You thought it flattering, but the show was mostly centered around you; where else would he be staring? You just brushed it off, always having some other thing to worry about–or at least you tried to convince yourself you did–and whatever his feelings were weren’t as important as that. Maybe you were in denial too.

The thing is, it got worse. Even when you weren’t performing, you’d get the feeling you were being watched, and every time you glance in whatever direction you felt it was coming from, Phil would be staring right back. Of course, he always looked away immediately with flushed cheeks, but you weren’t blind. You just held onto the hope that he was in love with Anne. You never really expected him to reject her when the time came.

Still, you think you knew about his feelings before he did. The guy was nothing if not ignorant. Just think about how long it took for you to convince him he wasn’t happy living amongst the rich people witch sticks up their asses. He probably refused to believe he felt anything for you, even though everyone, yourself included, saw it. The others would constantly be asking with a smirk on their faces what was going on between you two, but being a showman at heart, you always managed to convince them you knew nothing.

If you had to choose a specific time for when you figured it out, it would probably be when you returned to the circus because– _ha_ , as if you could stay away forever from your show. You’d only left, not that anyone else knows, to spend more time with Charity, and the two of you came to a mutual understanding in that time. An understanding that yes, you love each other and will always have the biggest part of each other’s hearts, but no, this love wasn’t that of a romantic couple. You still live in the same house, share mostly the same daily routine, and take care of your children together, but certainly, some things changed. You’d already moved most of your things to a separate room, and Charity had a pile of papers on her desk that could only be for divorce.

No, Phil wasn’t the one who caused this to happen. 

When you came back during one of his shows, you’d stayed in the audience. He had that bright smile when his eyes found you immediately in the crowd of people, and even with the dazzling lights shining in his eyes and all the magic around him, it was you he stared at with that grin. It wasn’t until the audience started giving you strange glances did you realize it–he shouldn’t be looking at you that way.

Performing became difficult with him getting too distracted by you–which he claimed was not what was happening–and missing his steps or lines. Most of the time, you just stayed outside the tent.

He found you there one day, alone and sitting on the dirt outside, staring at the sunset. You watched the sky as it lost its rich colors while he watched you. You could’ve asked him why he didn’t even spare the beauty of the setting sun a glance, but you both knew the answer to that at this point.

“You’re in love with me.” You didn’t mean for it to sound so blunt. Neither of your gazes shifted.

“Yeah.”

“Seems everyone’s figured it out.”

“Yeah.” Another sigh. He sounded defeated.

“Don’t you want to know what I think?”

Phil laughed, a hollow chuckle with nothing but dismay behind it. You had to tear you eyes away from the sun to see his usual grin on his lips, but his eyes looked so different, so sad, so wrong. He turned to the sliver of sun left in the sky. Then, he said, humor in his voice with just enough of an edge of pain, “I already know I don’t stand a chance.”

You should have said something, done something, but all you could do was sit there, letting the bright circus illuminate your surroundings as he walked away into the dark.

You didn’t get the opportunity to talk to him after that as the next day, Anne dragged you away the second you stepped into the circus tent. You understood when she said she wanted to leave, taking W.D. with her. There were more and better opportunities out there for them, and seeing Phil act like a lovesick fool after rejecting her couldn’t have been pleasant either. You’d wished them the best of luck, assured them the circus’ doors were open for them if they ever wanted to return, and let them go on their way with your signature bright smile. Phil, he was another story.

As soon as he found out they left and you let them go–as if you could force them to stay–he burst into your office. You just let him cry on you and drink your alcohol, and sometimes you wonder whether that was the best idea. With the alcohol running through his veins altering his judgement and the pain of losing a close friend, he was weak, so of course he would make the impulsive choice to kiss you. 

You didn’t push him away. When he tried to pull back, you’d brought your fingers up and into his hair to tell him _it’s okay_ , and you let him have this, if it was just for this moment, because damn it, the kid was hurting. You let him take what he wanted, which happened to be a kiss interrupted repeatedly by broken sobs, and you just held him. You told yourself that that would be enough for him.

Looking back, that belief was naive.

Neither of you brought it up the next day. In fact, he seemed to be trying his best to ignore you–inconvenient and fruitless, considering you were supposed to be practicing the dance you had to do together. It didn’t go unnoticed, and by lunch, Lettie had dragged you out of the tent and away from everyone because apparently, as she said, she needed to take care of Phil with Anne gone. And of course, if that man was upset, it was your fault, which was completely unfair, and you let her know it.

“I just don’t want you to hurt him. Let him down nicely, okay?” She repeatedly mentioned that all Phil wants is to be happy, as if you wouldn’t give up the world to see that too. You just brushed her aside with a dismissive gesture and said you wanted to eat.

It took several days before you two talked again, and it was no doubt planned by the entire circus. Everyone left earlier than usual, leaving the tent empty in the strangest way. Phil stood in the middle of the dark tent, still dressed in his costume, and you walked towards him.

“I’m sorry,” were his first words, muttered to the dark like it was a taboo secret. He didn’t look at you. “I shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t have–”

He choked, and you immediately knew you were fucked because you’d say anything to make him happy again. You stole a quick glance at his face. A mistake.

He looked devastated. The bright red he was wearing seemed so wrong, not matching with the tired face above it. “I’m sorry, Phin. I swear I won’t do it again. I don’t know why I did. Just, please don’t make me leave the circus. It’s all I have. I–”

You stepped forward quickly, and grabbed one of his flailing hands, then the other, before bringing them together. “Phil.”

You were staring at each other, and the face off was intimidating, unlike anything else, even with the tears in his eyes.

“Phil,” you didn’t like how your voice sounded, “you could tear down this very tent with your two hands and laugh at the remnants, and I would still ask you to rebuild with me. I don’t ever want you to leave.”

“I shouldn’t have kissed you,” he whispered, and your faces were so close, you could feel his breath.

“I know.” You regretted the words as soon as they left your mouth, and you could see the shift in his face when you said that. He tried to pull away from you, but you wrapped your arms around him in a hug. He cried, soaking your shoulder, but you couldn’t care less because he’s been crying so much lately, and it hurt your heart every time. You let him hold onto you, clinging on like his life depended on it, and what else could you do besides be there? Eventually, his sobs turned to shaky breaths against your neck that made you shiver. “Phil.”

He didn’t say anything.

“I don’t deserve this. For you to cry over me.” All you could hear in the tent was the echo of your voice and Phil’s quiet breathing. “You don’t either. So many people out there could give you so much more.”

“I don’t care,” he whispered, and you could feel it against your skin. “I just want you.”

You. You took a deep breath, and with closed eyes, said the word that would either be the greatest mistake you’d ever made or the biggest risk that paid off the most. “Okay.”

He stilled against you before looking up. “Okay?”

You kissed him first because he needed it, the reassurance. And maybe, you shouldn’t lie to him like that, but it was worth seeing the smile on his face and feel the warmth as he hugged you a little too tight.

It didn’t take him long to find something else to worry about. “Charity–”

“We split a while ago.”

That was it.

You kept the relationship–or whatever it was–a secret, and you’re still thankful Phil agreed to that, if hesitantly. You mostly did it for Charity’s sake; with the whole situation with Jenny Lind and all, you just didn’t want to put her through that again. You could already imagine the headlines, _Scoundrel Barnum at it Again!_ Imagine the things would say–poor Charity, being betrayed time and time again, and poor Phil, being used as another bed warmer. It’s not as if you could explain to them that _it wasn’t fucking like that_ ; Jenny and Phil were two very different people as were the scenarios in which the two of you kissed.

He liked to do that a lot, kissing. Whether it was a quick press of lips against your cheek or hand, sometimes a more intense kiss that practically spoke against your mouth, _I need this_. You gave it to him, everything he needed or wanted, to make him happy. Well, almost everything.

“I love you.” He said it again and again everyday, and everyday, rather than saying it back, you’d just tighten your hold around him or smile because maybe, just maybe, if you never said it, you would never lie to him. Lie and tell him you want this, you love him, you didn’t just do this because he was sad.

It was worth it. You told yourself that everyday. It was worth it because he’s happy. Worth it because he grins so much and so often, and when he smiled at you like that, so hopeful and so fucking beautiful, you know you would give him it all if it made him happy. He could smile at you like that with a hand over your heart and ask to have it, and you would gladly take it out of your chest and hand it over without a second thought.

Of course, what’s happiness without a little pain, and there were some instances where it got painful, like–

The single time you went to the bank together. Phil had worked through the entire night, and he was understandably tired. He still insisted on going with you, though, which resulted in him falling asleep in the waiting room with his head on your shoulder. You let him. Still, you couldn’t help but feel hyper aware of the people casting glances or just downright staring at you. It made you want to throw up or hold Phil tight and shield him from the hatred of the world. Instead, you shook him awake when the bank teller called your name.

The first time he said he loved you hurt more. He’d whispered it with a small smile on his lips after one of your solo performances, an awestruck look in his eyes. You were caught off guard, to say the least, and all you could do was stammer a quiet, “Oh,” before rushing off. You could practically hear his heart break behind you, and he was distant for an agonizing three days, over which you wondered what you should say the next time. The answer turned out to be nothing.

In the end, the worst was probably you telling him the truth. We’ll get to that.

He was happy with you more often than not. Your favorite memory was probably the day Phil visited your house for “business reasons.” You’d expected Charity to react, well, not the way that she did. The entire time he was there, she watched you two with knowing eyes, and you could only wonder what she was thinking. Still, Phil got along with the girls amazingly, laughing at their jokes and complimenting them constantly. You pretended you didn’t hear Caroline mention the fact that Phil looks at you the same way their mother used to. His blushing face was endearing, though.

The hardest you’d ever seen him laugh was when you told the entire circus about your relationship, and half of the people cheered while the rest pulled out bills with pouting faces. He’d joked that he was offended so many people didn’t believe in him, and you’d just responded with a tight grin, thinking about how much it took just to get here. Still, he looked overjoyed at everyone’s support, and you couldn’t help but think about what Anne would say if she were here.

The world, of course, had been less excited about your news. It was really an accident, but that didn’t make it any less of an exciting story for the media to cover. It had been the first time you introduced your new routine, a dance you two did together. It was supposed to end in a bow, but something happened in between that and the start, resulting in you clinging onto him to make sure he didn’t fall. He looked up at you, and that was the first time you ever really felt the need to kiss him. With the way his face was lit up in the circus lights, the crowd seemingly cheering you on, and an expression on him you’d never seen before and probably reserved for performing only, he looked ethereal. You leaned in, and neither of you appeared to be too bothered by the hundred or so people looking on. Technically, your lips weren’t touching by the time the lights dramatically went out, but it’d be hard to misconceive what you were doing.

You don’t like thinking about the aftermath of that. It just wasn’t pretty.

That was the moment you decided maybe you needed to get out of this. It was stressful, constantly avoiding certain conversations with Phil and lying when you couldn’t get out of it. It took you a long time to really ask for help, and of course, when you reached out, the person you consulted was Charity. You tried your best to keep things as vague as possible but like she couldn’t see through you.

“So, hypothetically speaking, how would I tell someone something that would completely ruin them without completely ruining them?” was what you said. She just shrugged.

“You thought wanting to end our marriage would ruin me.” Yikes. You’re certainly still not over the fact that she rolled her eyes at your heartfelt speech.

“This is different.”

“Just tell them.”

“But I want him to be happy!” You took a dramatic sip of your tea. “I just want to live this lie and see that smile for a little longer. Is that so bad?”

“Yes.” She drank her tea too while you sighed and let your head fall back onto the top of the chair. “It’ll hurt more the longer you lie.”

You let your eyes slip shut, and all you could see was Phil’s smile. This is all for him. You can keep going like this if he smiled. “Maybe I can just keep up the show forever.”

“Right.” Charity stared at you for a long time, a sad but knowing smile on her face. When she spoke again, it was in that tone you knew she used to tell people bad things in the best way possible, and suddenly, you didn’t want to hear what she was going to say. “Oh, Phineas.”

“Don't.” Your throat was tight.

“You’re going to break that poor boy’s heart.”

And really, you knew you would somehow, but it hurt more coming from her because she knew you, probably better than yourself, and she could predict you and your stupid decisions. Of course, she wasn’t trying to hurt you, just tell you the truth, but that didn’t stop the stab in your heart as she told you the very thing you’d been avoiding.

Turns out, you couldn’t avoid it forever. It happened on what should’ve been a peaceful afternoon. The two of you were in his apartment, him sitting on the couch, combing his hands through your hair, and you lying across it with your head in his lap. The feeling of his fingers against your head made your eyes droop. It was moments like these that made you want to hold on, to stay in this relationship and world you’d fabricated. You just focused on his fingers with some subtle sad hope that your mind will be able to replicate this feeling again if you did lose him. It was a silly thought, but it was just another one of those thoughts that come up when your eyes are slipping shut and your brain is slowing. You could still feel his gaze on you.

“Something’s on your mind,” he says, and you wonder if he can see your thoughts somehow. “You can talk to me, y’know.”

It took a long time for you to decide on how to respond, and in the end, you still don’t know if you should have said, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“What are you talking about?” His hands are motionless against your head. You sat up.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” you said, your voice shaking, and he just looked at you. “I’ve been lying to you about something for a long time.”

“Just tell me.”

“I–” How could you say it in any other way? “I never wanted this.”

He’s silent, and despite how vague you were, you knew he was already figuring it out. He wasn’t stupid.

“I gave you what you wanted because I wanted you to be happy. That’s all I ever wanted.” It was getting harder to swallow with the lump in your throat, and you closed your eyes because you couldn’t bare seeing his expression.

“At least look me in the eyes when you say it.” It took too much effort to open your eyes, and it wasn’t worth the effort when all you could see was the tears threatening to stain his cheeks. “Say you don’t love me.”

“I never did.” You left him crying on the couch alone.

He didn’t show up to the circus the next day, and you didn’t really expect him to. Everyone was suspicious as you continued through the day with bright smiles and cheerful exclamations, although they were distracted by something else. Anne and W.D. had decided to come back to visit, though they chose the absolute worst day to do so. You greeted them just like everyone else, but as soon as she noticed Phil’s absence, she cornered you. You agreed to talk about it somewhere else.

A couple shots of whatever she ordered later, you were spilling all your feelings, and honestly, what was with you and confessing all your deepest secrets to the women in your life. With all her performing, she made for a good audience, just sitting there, listening, and drinking just as much and if not, more than you. The bartender, who at this point seemed to be used to you and your shenanigans, didn’t seem bothered by the odd pair drinking possibly to die on a nice afternoon right next to him. You appreciate him.

After a long pause at the end of your story, she asked, “Does he make you happy?”

You stared at your glass, which was quite difficult with your eyes focusing on anything but that. “Of course.”

“Does _being_ with him make you happy?”

Maybe it was stupid, but you’d never thought about that before. You’d always made the relationship about Phil, his happiness, his feelings. “I don’t know.”

The bartender snorted, and you glared at him while Anne laughed. She said, “If, say, Phil went out, and he found some other person. He’s happy in his new relationship, so you don’t have to worry about his feelings. How would you feel?”

“Lost,” was the first word to come into your mind. “Probably sad too.”

When you looked back up at her, she was smiling. “I’m gonna ask you a question, and I want you to answer it immediately.”

“Okay?”

“Do you love him?” You opened your mouth and closed it repeatedly which probably made you look like a fish out of water because you don’t know why, but your immediate answer was going to be _yes, of course_. “There you go.”

“I need to talk to him.”

“You’re drunk.”

“So are you.”

“I’m not the one about to confess my undying love to someone.” Fair enough.

It took you an embarrassingly long amount of time before you actually went to Phil’s apartment. He never came to the circus anymore. Anne and W.D, who had planned to stay for a couple days, ended up staying two entire weeks while she waited for you to “fucking talk to him already!” Your excuses got more and more pathetic every time before she eventually forcefully pushed you out of the tent, saying, “You’re not allowed to come back in until you talk to him!”

You didn’t doubt that everyone in the circus would make sure of that, so you just walked away, wishing your entire body would stop shaking. You arrived way too soon in front of his door, and all you could think about was the harsh words you’d said the last time you were here. Two knocks. No answer. Another two.

The door opened while you were leaning against it, and you almost fell onto the person who opened the door. Phil looked at you, and you felt like crying because he looked so tired and so broken, and you wanted to hurt whoever did this to him, even if you knew it was you. You stared at him until he tried to close the door on you.

“Phil, please,” you said, your hand the only thing that’s keeping the door open. “I need to talk to you.”

“We’ve talked already, haven’t we?” His voice sounded hoarse. “What more is there to discuss?”

“Let me in, and you’ll know.” 

After a lot of coercing, he finally let you in, and you unintentionally sat in the exact place on the couch when you’d told him you didn’t love him. There was an emotion you couldn’t read in his eyes when he saw that, but he took a seat on the opposite end, as far from you as possible. The silence between you was uncomfortable, and he broke it in a possibly even more uncomfortable way, “So? What did you want?”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m over it.” Clearly.

“I didn’t mean what I said. I was scared, and I didn’t know what I was saying. I wanted to believe it, but I don’t think I could ever. I don’t want to end things, and I don’t want to lose you.” Words just kept tumbling out, and you let them. He continued to stare at the wall in front of him. “I love you.”

He didn’t say anything for a long time, and you just sat there with him. He was quiet when he spoke again, “Do you know how long I’ve waited to hear that?”

“I’m sorry I took so long.”

“Y’know, it’s pathetic, but I was never really angry at you for anything. You tried to make me happy, and I just felt like it was my fault for believing you,” he said, and the very words made you want to reach out and hold him. So you did, taking him into your arms and letting him rest against your shoulder. “I want to believe this is real.”

He’s warm against you, and god, you’d missed this. This. This is where you were meant to be, who you were meant to become. You can’t imagine anyone else in his place, and why would you need to when he’s clinging onto you like he never wants to let go? You hold him tighter, and really, in that moment, you were happy. So you tell him, “It is.”

**Author's Note:**

> lol its entirely possible i only did the 2nd pov thing bc fuck typing "p.t." over and over the fucking period key is hard to press ok
> 
>  
> 
> yo i have a tumblr where i post the exact same fics lol: vudonn.tumblr.com


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